The year was 1942. The country was emerging from the Great Depression and had just entered World War II. Television was not yet a household word, and people were eager for a diversion.

Taunton-Raynham Greyhound Park opened its doors and young George Carney Jr., 14 years old and son of one of the owners, went to work at the track leading dogs.

“It was very exciting working here as a young fellow,” said Carney, who at 85 is owner of the facility and leading the charge to bring slots to the park on Broadway in Raynham.

That glamour and allure, the romance of the track, with its nightlife and high-stakes excitement, still speaks to him. But it is also a business and over the years has been a very lucrative one for him and the town.

But in recent years, though still profitable, it has become a bit of a ghost town.

Its sprawling clubhouse and many restaurants and grandstands seem to go on forever. Only now, most are not in use. Carney said once they were elbow-to-elbow on a Saturday night in the track’s heyday in the 1970s and 1980s.

Couples would get dressed up and enjoy dinner and a show, only the show was right outside a giant bank of picture windows overlooking the track, just a few dozen yards away, so close you could almost see their muscles flex as the dogs raced past.

Back then, the vast 7,500-space parking lot wasn’t big enough and cars would line Route 138. Now, it’s mostly empty even on a good day.

What changed? Foxwoods resort casino opened in 1986 in Connecticut followed by Mohegan Sun in 1996 and Massachusetts voters banned dog racing effective Jan. 1, 2010.

In the 1970s, the track brought in more than $200 million in annual revenue. It did $1 million in business on Fridays, $1 million on Saturdays and $1 million on Sundays and about half that on weekdays, Carney said.

At that time, Raynham’s share of the revenue was close to $1 million a year, a huge boost to the budget of a town looking to supply services, maintain infrastructure and educate its children, Selectmen Chairman Joseph Pacheco said.

But that number dwindled, first to $600,000 then $400,000 as the track’s revenue declined and last year the town’s share was down to just $64,913.

As the track’s fortunes shifted Carney nimbly reinvented the facility.

“I’ll reinvent it again,” Carney said.

The large property includes other businesses owned by himself and others, including a trucking business, a septic treatment plant and a grease processing plant.

And since greyhound racing was banned 3½ years ago, Raynham Park has turned exclusively to simulcasting of dog and horse track racing from out-of-state.

Today, Carney said, the track brings in about $700,000 a week or $35 to $40 million a year.

Page 2 of 3 -
As to jobs, in the 1970s, the track employed 650 to 700 people, between direct employees and dog owners, helpers and trainers.

Now, the park has 163 employees, Carney said.

But if his slot proposal goes through, he estimates the park will top the previous high, with at least 800 full and part time jobs, including direct employees and police, fire and EMTs assigned to the facility.

Carney has teamed up with Greenwood Racing for a proposed “Parx” slot machine complex on the site. Under the plan, they would make a capital investment of $220 million on the gaming facility, which would be home to 1,250 slot machines.

The annual payment to the town would be $1 million, increasing by 2.5 percent a year after the first three years. Combined with a huge increase in the park’s property tax bill and other financial benefits to the town, the slots complex would mean about $4 million in additional revenue in Raynham’s coffers each year, Pacheco said.

But first, there are two big hurdles to clear.

On Aug. 13, Raynham residents will go to the polls to vote on allowing slots at the track.

If voters OK the agreement between the town and the developers, the fate of the proposal will then be in the state’s hands. Carney is one of four applicants vying for the single slot license to be issued under the state’s new gaming law.

And the developers have put their money where their mouth is. To apply for the license, they had to submit a $400,000 non-refundable application fee.

“In business you have to take risks,” Carney said.

“I feel we have a great location, this area needs jobs and we could be up and running in five to six months,” Carney said.

How is that possible?

The plan is to set up a temporary slot parlor in the current clubhouse. Meanwhile, the current grandstand would be demolished and a “world-class” gaming complex would be built where it now stands, though set back a bit. Once the new construction is complete, the old clubhouse would be torn down as well, leaving none of the old structures.

If on the other hand, the slot license is not awarded to the town, Raynham Park will stay as it is, a more limited but still viable operation, Carney said.

The wall of the clubhouse lobby still features a giant mural of greyhounds racing.

Butts started working at the track 30 years ago as a young mother and was there for the last day of racing. She is a strong supporter of slots. It would mean jobs for many of her former co-workers.

Page 3 of 3 - “It’s a great place to work. We’re like family and I’ve known a lot of the customers forever,” she said.

Joseph Merlesena of Brockton, a retired bakery truck driver, has been coming to the park since the 1970s and said it’s still the place to be — though now the track just outside the giant bank of windows is overgrown with weeds. And the only dogs to be found are a pair of greyhound statues in the center of the forlorn racecourse, reminders of a lost era.

Merlesena visits the track every day but never bets money he can’t afford to lose, he said. He sits down and reads the newspaper in the clubhouse, enjoys a bite to eat, studies the odds. He’s won some and lost some, but has no regrets.

“I love it,” he said. “We call it the juice, that feeling when you win.”

When dog racing was banned, many people would have called it a day, closed up shop and retired. Carney was already in his 80s and had plenty of accomplishments to look back on.

But he didn’t feel ready to retire, he said.

He didn’t want his biggest decision to be what cereal to have for breakfast. His health has held out and so has the fire in his belly to keep doing bigger and better things. After all, this is the same man who took control of the Brockton Fair at 28 in a proxy battle.

As Carney looks around the park, he has mixed feelings at the prospect of demolishing all the old buildings. But he’s not one to dwell on the past. He’s looking forward.

He figures construction will take about a year-and-a-half and the new facility — complete with movie theaters, restaurants and maybe even a hotel — could be up and running in a couple of years if the state makes its decision in December as expected. He can’t wait to open those doors.